


It's Easy With You

by theylikeboth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, First Meetings, First Times, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, M/M, No Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29418714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theylikeboth/pseuds/theylikeboth
Summary: When Atsumu meets Sakusa at the interhigh tournament, his first thought is,Oh hot. His second thought is,God, what a prick. Funnily enough, Kiyoomi thinks almost the exact same thing about him.The story of some of the first times throughout their relationship.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	It's Easy With You

**Author's Note:**

> For the first day of NSFWsktsFluffWeek2021, with the "first times" prompt.
> 
> Stick with me, the pov doesn't switch as often after the first bit :)

When Atsumu meets Sakusa at the interhigh tournament, his first thought is, _Oh hot_ . His second thought is, _God, what a prick_. As soon as Sakusa glances his way, it’s clear he’d rather have a fifty foot radius around him at all times. He can feel the “don’t touch me” vibes radiating off of him, and it makes him desperately want to touch him. It’s the same feeling he gets when Osamu says to leave him alone. 

Funnily enough, Kiyoomi thinks almost the exact same thing about him. Miya Atsumu is nice to look at, but he can’t stop running his mouth about how great he is. It’s completely insufferable. He obviously knows he’s attractive too. His attitude makes Kiyoomi roll his eyes so hard he almost gives himself a headache. But when they’re both invited to the All-Japan youth training camp they play on the same side of the court for the first time and Kiyoomi begrudgingly admits to himself that he really is as good as he says. Not that it makes him any less insufferable. 

Somehow they end up talking one night at the training camp though and it turns out they’re judgemental in the same ways, and it’s not awful. Their first real conversation is kind of dry and bitchy, exactly how Atsumu likes it. Osamu’s the nice twin, they both know it, and in a way it’s kind of fun to hang out with another asshole. They’re both highly competitive though, and on the court Atsumu finds himself smirking his way when he scores.

They actually exchange phone numbers before going home. Kiyoomi isn’t completely opposed to making friends, but it’s not his focus and his prickly attitude means it’s the first time he gets the number of someone he’s not officially on a team with. They don’t text often after that, but Atsumu sometimes bugs him when he’s bored and Kiyoomi doesn’t hate it as much as he pretends it does. Atsumu complains about his teammates, girls who try to conscript him as their gay best friend (and are half-disappointed, half-elated to learn he’s actually bi), and the homework that gets in the way of extra volleyball practice. Kiyoomi doesn’t say much of his own, but when he does it’s like a burst of energy for Atsumu and he finds himself bombarded with paragraphs of text.   
  


The next time they meet, it’s at the spring tournament. They don’t play each other but they happen to meet in the stands after both their teams are eliminated. 

“Hey Omi,” Atsumu says humorlessly.

“Don’t call me that,” Sakusa replies, sounding just as gloomy. Neither of them really have any heat left in them.

Atsumu feels a little wilted after losing to Kageyama’s team, and Sakusa seems to be more sad than grumpy for once after his own team’s loss. There are no complaints and no gossip. They watch the finals and comment on the volleyball and the teams that are still going strong. They don’t pity each other. And they don’t praise each other.  
  


Atsumu unexpectedly sees Sakusa again in the evening, both of them out for an evening run. They slow down when they see each other, coming to a stop a couple feet apart.

“Fancy seein’ you here,” Atsumu says, breathing heavily.

“Miya,” Sakusa replies, short as ever, but also a bit out of breath.

“What’re you doin’ out so late?”

“My team seems to be compensating for our loss by having a party. I needed a break from the noise.”

Atsumu laughs. Surprisingly, the corner of Sakusa’s mouth lifts a little too, which is when Atsumu realises that he’s not wearing a mask outdoors for once. He supposes it would be hard to run with one, but still, he’s not used to seeing him without it off the court. His nose is a little pink from the nighttime chill, and it makes him look less stern than normal.

“Yeah, I needed some time alone too,” Atsumu says. It’s true, but it’s oddly nice being around Sakusa right now so after a pause he says, “Don’t suppose you’d want to be alone together for a bit?”

Sakusa twists his mouth a little and Atsumu expects a firm no to come out, but instead -

“Sure,” he says.

So they do the rest of their run together. It’s the first time they’ve actually chosen to spend any time together but by the time Atsumu’s back at the hotel he finds himself feeling a lot better.

Being on the Black Jackals together, Sakusa and Atsumu bicker constantly. Their competitiveness has only multiplied since they were in high school, and every point scored feels like fodder to rub in the other person’s face. At this point they’ve known each other for years, but that just means they know how to get on each other’s nerves even more. Despite all that, Atsumu feels like they’re friends. Their bitter quips are laced with genuine feelings of camaraderie and both of them can take it just as good as they can dish it out. And they still have their favourite hobby to participate in together: judgement. 

He likes their teammates, really he does, Bokuto is enthusiastic and kind, Hinata is friendly and determined, Inunaki is reliable and just sincerely nice, and the captain is an all around good person. But. When you’re always on overnight trips with these people, they can be so goddamn annoying. Especially when they never shut up about their significant others. Atsumu is happy for them or whatever, but more than that he doesn’t really give a shit. He isn’t upset about being single, but someone else’s love life isn’t exactly interesting to him. 

Omi feels the same. That mask does a pretty good job of hiding his emotions, but Atsumu can see him fighting the urge to roll his eyes every time Bokuto starts giving a sermon about how Akaashi makes the best coffee in the world or Hinata lovingly gripes about Kageyama. At victory parties, the two of them often end up at the bar together ribbing on their colleagues. It’s nothing they wouldn’t say to their teammates' faces, it’s just more fun to say them to each other. 

Tonight the bar is packed like a can of sardines. The Adlers came to town for a now finished game, and the bar is overflowing with V-League players and their partners. Kiyoomi finds himself at a tiny table in the corner in an attempt to escape the crowd. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” a lilting voice speaks over his head. Kiyoomi looks up to see Atsumu with a beer in each hand already. He takes a seat across from Kiyoomi without waiting for an answer, and sets one down in front of him.

“You look like you could use that,” Atsumu says with a grin. 

They end up getting drunk together off warm sake and beer, finding nothings to argue about just to amuse themselves. By the time the party is finally dying down, they’re well past tipsy. Atsumu’s cheeks are pink and his eyes shiny from the light of the lantern above their table. Kiyoomi can’t help but smile a little, looking at him.

“What?” Atsumu says, his eyes seeming to twinkle even more as he smiles back. “I got somethin’ on my face?”

“No,” Kiyoomi says, “you just look pretty.”

It’s the first time he’s complimented Atsumu for anything other than his volleyball skills, but he can’t seem to bring himself to take it back when he sees Atsumu’s eyes widen and the pink on his cheeks spread all the way to his ears. He looks too pretty to lie about it. Kiyoomi feels a little satisfied at having seemingly stunned him into silence, but then Atsumu says this:

“You look pretty too, Omi.”

They don’t mention it again, but they start hanging out outside of practice after that. The first time is at a coffee shop near the training facility. It’s not a date, but it feels different enough that they’re a little awkward at first. The tension breaks when Sakusa points out how unhealthy and sugary Atsumu’s drink is.

“Well excuse me for not bein’ a coffee snob Sakusa-sama,” Atsumu says.

“I’m not a snob, I’m just not seven,” Sakusa says disparagingly.

“This is a perfectly adult beverage!”

“It’s half whipped cream, hardly suitable for a professional athlete’s diet.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure it tastes better than your plain ol’ black coffee.” Atsumu wrinkles his nose.

“It’s good coffee, though you probably can’t even taste it through all the sugar in your drink.”

“Can too!”

“Let me see.” Sakusa reaches a hand across the table. 

Atsumu is honestly shocked that germaphobe-Omi would deign to share a drink, but it sort of makes him feel special, so he lets Sakusa pull the cup towards himself. He watches as Sakusa leans down to take a sip. It almost feels like he’s watching something pornographic. Something about how his eyes half close and the way his perfectly pink tongue and lips close around the straw. Atsumu mentally shakes his brain. _Don’t be weird_ , he tells himself. 

“Well?” Atsumu asks.

Sakusa makes eye contact with him briefly, then glances away.

“It’s not bad,” he admits, looking grumpy.

“Told ya!” 

Sakusa rolls his eyes, but Atsumu swears he sees the corner of his mouth lift upwards before he slips the facemask back on. 

The first time they hold hands it’s after practice. Everyone else has already left and the two of them are quietly packing their bags when Kiyoomi turns to grab something a little too quickly and slips on a slick spot, landing smack on his ass. It hurts, and he’s not the type to laugh off pain, regardless of how silly he feels. 

“Omi-kun you gotta be careful.”

He looks up to see Atsumu with a hand outstretched. When he takes it, it’s like an electric pulse radiates from the touch, and he never wants to let go. But instead he allows Atsumu to help him up and doesn’t hold on. 

Atsumu does though. 

It’s so quiet in the locker room that they can hear each other breathing. Kiyoomi looks Atsumu in the eyes, ready to break the tension with a snarky comment, but instead finds himself unable to speak. Atsumu’s gaze is intense and serious, more serious than Kiyoomi’s ever seen him outside of a game. He feels his other hand reach out to touch Atsumu’s face, and hesitates for a moment before letting his fingertips just barely rest on his cheeks.

Atsumu swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. _No going back now_ , Kiyoomi thinks, and he kisses him.

Atsumu’s lips are soft from the shower, and he kisses back firmly, inhaling deeply through his nose. Kiyoomi can’t help but kiss him again, eyes still closed as he presses Atsumu against the lockers. He feels a hand weave into his hair and sighs against Atsumu’s skin. It feels like they kiss for barely a minute, or maybe hours. A little momentary forever.

But then Atsumu’s stomach growls, and Kiyoomi pulls back with an eyebrow raised.

“We did just practice for like 4 hours straight,” Atsumu says defensively.

Kiyoomi feels a smile lift the edge of his mouth, and drops his hand to tug gently at Atsumu’s collar, “Come on, let's go get some food.”

Their first kiss was in a dirty locker room while Kiyoomi had a sore tailbone and Atsumu had an empty stomach, but when Kiyoomi thinks about it later, all he can remember are Atsumu’s lips.

Their first real date happens because of an argument when Atsumu steals Sakusa’s mask. 

“Lookin’ for this?” he swings it tauntingly by the loop.

“Give it back,” Sakusa says flatly.

“Make me.”

“Miya,” the warning in his voice is impossible to miss, but Atsumu can’t help feeling a twinge of his own irritation.

“When are ya gonna stop calling me Miya?” he snaps, sharper than he meant to.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” Sakusa says this like he’s completely stupid.

Atsumu grits his teeth a little, “You know what I’m sayin’. I’ve called you Omi for ages now, but we’re practically datin’ an’ you can’t even be bothered to call me by my given name.”

“We haven’t even gone...on a date,” Sakusa says.

Atsumu doesn’t miss the hesitation in his voice but it just makes him angrier.

“Well then let’s go on a date!” he nearly shouts.

There’s a silence.

“Okay,” Sakusa bites his lip before speaking again, “where do you want to go?”

Atsumu feels a little awkward after raising his voice, but that doesn’t squash the spark of excitement blooming in his stomach.

“...we could go to a movie,” he says.

“Okay,” Sakusa says again.

They make plans to meet on Saturday and part ways, tension not totally dissipated but a layer of giddiness just underneath nonetheless. Atsumu doesn’t realise he didn’t return the mask until he’s halfway home. He texts Sakusa to apologize since he didn’t mean to actually take it. His phone buzzes almost immediately.

**From: Omi-Omi**

>>> Keep it.

They watch a romantic comedy with famous but mediocre actors and emerge into a still-bright outdoors feeling a bit disoriented. Atsumu stretches and squints into the sunlight.

“What did you think of the movie?” Sakusa asks.

“Uh...it was pretty bad,” Atsumu says, probably rudely since Sakusa paid for the tickets.

Sakusa lets out a small laugh, “They practically stuffed in every bad trope possible in an hour and a half,” he agrees.

Atsumu laughs too, glad they’re on the same page, “I like how the girl kept cryin’ at everythin’ but tears never came out.”

Sakusa takes a breath like he’s going to say something else about the movie, but then he pauses for a moment.

“Hey, do you want to get some bubble tea?” his eyebrows lift and he looks a bit sweet, “There’s a place nearby that’s pretty good.”

Atsumu smiles, “Sure, sounds good.”

They sit outside in the cloudy sunshine with their teas and talk more crap about the movie. They probably end up having more fun criticizing it than they would have watching a good movie in all honesty. Atsumu vaguely wonders if Sakusa knew that and chose a shitty movie on purpose. He definitely seems like the type to look at reviews beforehand. 

Sakusa’s face stays still and impassive like it always is, but when Atsumu looks close he can see his eyes crinkle a little at the corners when he talks. It’s not like Omi never smiles, but his smiles are little things that feel like rewards. His eyes are lighter in the sunlight, a warm brown at the edges instead of the harsh black Atsumu is used to seeing indoors. 

When they finish their drinks they throw their cups away and start walking back towards the theater. They’re about halfway there when there’s a grumble overhead, they look up to see a much darker sky than Atsumu remembers there being a minute ago. There’s another warning growl, and they start running just as heavy droplets start to hit the pavement around them. 

Omi grabs his hand, “My car is close by,” he says. He pulls Atsumu by the hand through the pouring rain until they reach his car, fumbling with the lock for a moment before they shove their way in, completely drenched. 

They sit there just breathing heavily for a moment, listening to the rain clatter over the roof. Atsumu runs a finger through the already-forming condensation on the window pane. 

“Whoa,” Atsumu breathes. 

“That was unexpected,” Omi agrees. 

Atsumu looks over at him with his best sleazy smirk, “Well, it seems like we’re trapped. Guess we’ll have to find somethin’ to do while we’re stuck here.”

“I could drive over to your car,” he points out.

Atsumu rolls his eyes, “I’m gonna pretend you flirted back and kiss you now.”

He sees Omi’s eyes widen slightly just before their lips meet, but then they’re kissing and both their eyes close. It’s wet and warm and soft. A hand grips into Atsumu’s soaked, de-styled hair and he hums against Omi’s lips. He slips one hand onto Omi’s thigh and shifts as close as he can with the console between them. Omi kisses back harder this time. He slides a tongue between Atsumu’s lips, licking into his mouth, and Atsumu feels himself make a sound in the back of his throat. The hand in his hair grips tighter, tight enough to sting a little and it makes Atsumu gasp. 

Omi runs a tongue along his bottom lip and then uses the hand in Atsumu’s hair to pull his head to the side and expose his throat. At first he just presses gentle kisses along the side of his throat, but then Atsumu feels teeth against his neck and shivers. Omi seems to take that as encouragement, sucking what is definitely going to be a hickey into his skin before running his tongue from the base of his neck all the way up to his ear. Atsumu moans shakily, squeezing his thigh and running his other hand into Omi’s curls.

He feels a breath tickle the inner shell of his ear as Omi sucks on his earlobe.

“ _Omi,_ ” he breathes just loud enough to be heard through the rain.

Omi pulls Atsumu’s face towards himself to kiss him again. They stay there, kissing in the car until the rain slows to a sprinkle. When they pull apart, Omi’s eyes are dark and beautiful. It feels like if Atsumu looks too long he’ll fall in. He kind of wants to have sex with him in the back of the car, but he knows Omi would probably raise an eyebrow and call him out for being desperate, and Atsumu is not about to lose. He wants to get Omi to break and be the first one to ask for sex. Besides, Omi’s probably too responsible to actually agree to something like that in the first place. Atsumu glances out the window, it looks like the sun is starting to set behind the clouds. He looks back at Omi.

“We should probably get goin’ huh?” Atsumu says reluctantly.

“I suppose so,” Omi says, looking equally reluctant, “Where are you parked? I’ll drive you.”

Atsumu lets out a small laugh, “I’m actually only two cars that way,” he says, pointing to the driver’s side window. 

“Oh.”

Begrudgingly, Atsumu pulls himself and moves to open the door, “I’ll see ya Monday Omi, this was fun.”

He feels Omi touch his arm, “Atsumu,” he says, “...are you free thursday after practice?”

Atsumu grins, real and big, “For sure,” he says.

Four dates later, Atsumu gives in and invites Kiyoomi up to his apartment. Kiyoomi flashes Atsumu a smug grin, one that clearly says, _I win_.

“Shut up,” Atsumu says, “We both know you wanna fuck as much as I do.”

Kiyoomi’s grin deepens, “Sure. That’s why you’re the one inviting me up.”

Atsumu scowls, a much cuter imitation of Kiyoomi’s own usual grump. They step into the elevator; when the door closes, Kiyoomi slips his arms around Atsumu’s waist and leans in close to his ear.

“Don’t be like that,” he says in a low voice. Atsumu shivers out a sigh.

“I don’t like you,” he says, but there’s no bite.

“Yes you do,” Kiyoomi releases his waist as the doors open.

When they reach the door to his studio apartment, Atsumu nearly drops his keys in his haste and it makes Kiyoomi smile, though he puts on his best serious face when Atsumu looks at him, ready to glare if he encounters any mocking. As soon as they make it inside Atsumu turns around to kiss him, but Kiyoomi stops him with a hand to the chest.

“What?” Atsumu says.

“You just touched the buttons in the elevator and I touched the door handle on the way in.”

“So...you want to wash our hands first?”

Kiyoomi nods. They’re made out before, but they’re about to touch each other a lot more and he can still feel the grease from other people’s fingers lingering. Atsumu does a light eye roll but flips on the bathroom light and opens the faucet to wash his hands.

“You sure are high maintenance,” he says in a teasing voice.

“I don’t want other people’s germs in my mouth,” Kiyoomi says brusquely. Atsumu almost says something but cuts himself off with a blush when he presumably imagines his fingers in Kiyoomi’s mouth. Kiyoomi allows himself a smirk when Atsumu glances back at his hands. He cuts off the water and wipes his hands dry on the towel nearby.

“All yers.”

Kiyoomi washes his hands with his usual double soaping method, in which he soaps and rinses once, watching the grey foam go down the drain, and then again, making sure the foam is white. Atsumu watches him but doesn’t comment. After patting his own hands dry, Kiyoomi walks straight back over to Atsumu.

Kiyoomi slips his hands underneath Atsumu’s shirt and grips his waist gently. He feels Atsumu’s breath quicken under his hands. Kiyoomi pulls Atsumu close and kisses him without much force, but with plenty of heat. Atsumu kisses back like he’s hungry for the attention, bringing his hands to either side of Kiyoomi’s neck. He licks into Atsumu’s mouth, revelling in the clean, sweet, taste of his tongue, and tilts his head as he walks Atsumu backwards into the wall behind him, pressing firmly at his hips. Atsumu hums against him, and he pulls back to lean down and kiss his neck. Atsumu very willingly accommodates by tilting his chin upwards and he lets out a small gasp at the first contact of lips to skin. 

As he kisses his neck, Atsumu lets out huffs of air that make Kiyoomi want to pull a real moan from him, so he weaves a hand into his hair to pull his head to the side and simultaneously bites the exposed skin. He’s rewarded with a throaty moan. He smirks to himself and licks over the spot he just bit, before finding a new spot just below Atsumu’s ear to suck a mark into. Atsumu moans again and Kiyoomi feels nails dig into his neck and back. 

“Omi,” Atsumu says, breathlessly. Kiyoomi pulls back and is met with heavily dilated eyes. The sight brings a sense of satisfaction to his chest and he feels himself getting harder in response.

“Mm?”

“C’mon, let's go to my bed.” 

Kiyoomi lets Atsumu lead him over to the bed, but pulls at his hand before he can climb onto the bed.

“What is it?” Atsumu asks, eyes looking shiny and dark.

“Jeans,” he says.

“...what?” 

“We’ve been out all day, I don’t want to get restaurant germs in the bed.”

Atsumu raises his eyebrows, “So...you wanna take ‘em off now? Is what you’re sayin’?” 

“Yes.”

“All right, playboy,” Atsumu says with a smirk, “c’mere.”

He slips a finger under Kiyoomi’s waistband and yanks him closer to where their hips are nearly touching. As he undoes his jeans, he kisses Kiyoomi, running his tongue slowly along his lower lip. It’s skillful really, the ability to do both at once. Kiyoomi reciprocates his actions, undoing Atsumu’s jeans as well. They keep kissing, only breaking apart to kick the jeans off fully.

Atsumu pushes Kiyoomi into the bed and then climbs on top, straddling him. Kiyoomi’s hands find their way back to his hips and then into his boxer briefs, where he squeezes firmly at his ass. Atsumu whines softly into the kiss and tangles his fingers into Kiyoomi’s hair. Kiyoomi squeezes again, and Atsumu begins dragging his hips forwards, grinding against Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi can’t help letting out his own quiet sound against Atsumu’s lips at the feeling of their erections pushing against each other. Atsumu seems to take this as encouragement and grinds forward again, this time harder. 

Kiyoomi draws back from the kiss after a minute, “Do you want to bottom or do you want me to?” 

Atsumu turns a bit red at the simple question, which Kiyoomi fights a grin at. He must not succeed entirely though because Atsumu glares at him. Which makes it even harder to resist. 

“Well?” Kiyoomi asks, jostling Atsumu in his lap.

“ah-I...I want to,” he says, looking embarrassed. Extremely cute. Kiyoomi does smile this time, and withdraws a hand.

“Sounds good,” he says, bringing his first two fingers to Atsumu’s lips, “Ah, it was supposed to be your fingers in _my_ mouth wasn’t it. Well. Maybe next time.”

Kiyoomi can’t help enjoying the flustered look on Atsumu’s face. He slides his fingers onto Atsumu’s tongue, who sucks willingly, hot breath running over Kiyoomi’s hand. Once they’re sufficiently wet, Kiyoomi brings his hand back down, breaking a long string of saliva connecting them to Atsumu’s lip. There’s a sharp inhale at the first touch, and then sighing moan when Kiyoomi pushes a finger in. He uses his fingers to stretch Atsumu out, drawing little gasps and moans. Atsumu ends up with his head heavy on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, shivering with every press to his prostate, whimpering right into Kiyoomi’s ear. When he’s ready to add a third, Kiyoomi lays Atsumu on his back and braces himself over him. 

Atsumu’s face is pink and he’s breathing hard, his honey colored eyes half closed but dark with lust. Kiyoomi smiles at him, and Atsumu lets out a breathy laugh.

“You’re good at this, Omi.”

Kiyoomi is glad his nerves seem to have totally dissipated, adorable though it was. He leans back to reach into Atsumu’s nightstand, assuming there will be lube and condoms in the drawer, but first glances back at Atsumu, who gives him a little nod. Kiyoomi finds what he needs and sets them to the side to pull Atsumu’s boxer briefs off. Atsumu’s cock twitches a little at the friction, looking as pink as his face. He’s about to lube up his fingers properly when Atsumu pushes himself up a little and gives Kiyoomi’s underwear a tug at the waistband. 

“You too,” he says, “Even out the playin’ field.”

Kiyoomi smiles a little and strips his own off, tossing them to the side before squeezing lube onto his fingers. He spreads it out over them and tries to warm it up a little and then without further preamble, pushes them in slowly. Atsumu’s head tips backwards and he lets out a long, low groan. Kiyoomi continues to go slow, thrusting his fingers in and out and lightly brushing his Atsumu's prostate until his body relaxes into the movement. Atsumu looks beautiful, panting under Kiyoomi's touch and Kiyoomi grips into the thick muscle of his thigh, pushing it outwards with his other hand. He can feel himself getting achingly hard just watching his fingers rhythmically working Atsumu open. His fingers are easily sliding in and out now and after drawing out a particularly satisfactory, rough moan, Kiyoomi withdraws his fingers. Atsumu hisses out an exhale at the loss.

“Are you ready?” Kiyoomi asks. He knows Atsumu’s body is, but he doesn't want to press on if he's not yet mentally prepared.

“Absolutely,” Atsumu replies, sounding breathless but with a big grin on his reddened face.

Kiyoomi mirrors him with his own grin and grabs the condom, ripping the package open and rolling it over himself.

“You know, you got a pretty cock, Omi,” Atsumu says, his eyes glued to where Kiyoomi’s hands are moving. 

Kiyoomi laughs a little, “Thank you,” He looks up at Atsumu, “So do you.” 

He leans forward and kisses Atsumu, feeling him smile into the kiss, and then finally lines himself up, his dick throbbing with the anticipation and the sensation of his heartbeat under his skin. He takes a deep breath and pushes in in one smooth, steady motion, both of them exhaling deep moans as he bottoms out. He pauses there, already panting.

“You okay?” he asks Atsumu.

“Yeah. Just gimme a sec.”

Atsumu’s face is a little tense, so Kiyoomi waits, despite aching to move his body into the tight, hot pleasure that’s surrounding him. The last thing he wants is to hurt Atsumu. He brings his hand up to cup Atsumu’s jaw and strokes his face with his thumb. After a few moments, Atsumu’s breathing evens out.

“Okay. Okay, you can move,” he finally says.

Kiyoomi begins thrusting, slowly at first, and then with more force as Atsumu’s thighs squeeze into his sides, the sound of skin slapping and heavy breath filling the room. Kiyoomi scoops up one of Atsumu’s legs and drapes it over his shoulder before leaning over to kiss him, he licks his tongue between Atsumu’s soft, slackening lips, Atsumu too occupied moaning with every thrust to do more than move his tongue sloppily against Kiyoomi’s. One of Atsumu’s hands twists into Kiyoomi’s hair, stinging pleasurably, and the other twists into the sheets, Kiyoomi curls over to lick at Atsumu’s neck again and leave another mark with a bite that makes Atsumu gasp a rough moan and scrape his nails against Kiyoomi’s neck. 

Kiyoomi’s getting close embarrassingly fast, Atsumu wasn’t wrong when he said that Kiyoomi wanted to do this as much as he did - luckily Atsumu seems close too, if the way he’s gasping out little “ _Omi, Omi, please_ ”s are any indication. Kiyoomi takes this as his cue to close a hand around Atsumu’s cock, which lays dripping on his stomach, and starts stroking it along with each thrust. 

“O-Omi, Omi, Omi,” Atsumu is gasping out his name with every breath now.

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi pants against his skin.

“I-I’m, I’m gonna,”

“Yeah? You gonna come for me?”

“Y-yeah, I-I’m gonna, I’m gonna co-” the rest of the word breaks off into a stuttering moan, as Atsumu clings desperately onto to Kiyoomi, nails digging in, and cock twitching as it spurts, dripping white all over Atsumu’s stomach and chest; Atsumu pulses around Kiyoomi and he feels his own orgasm get yanked from his body, he bites Atsumu’s shoulder with a rough groan and comes into the condom, continuing to move until both their orgasms are completely pulled from their bodies. 

They lay there for a moment, sticky and panting. When he feels a bit more stable, Kiyoomi pushes himself off of Atsumu to look at him. He is gorgeously wrecked. Kiyoomi laughs, just as a release for how good he feels right now.

Atsumu laughs too, “What? There somethin’ on my face?” 

“No,” Kiyoomi smiles at him, “You just look pretty.”

They shower together and find some snacks and water in the kitchen, hungry even though they had dinner just an hour earlier. Kiyoomi borrows some pajamas and they chat about nothing in particular as they eat, sitting on the counter in their soft clothes.

Afterwards they lay in bed, Kiyoomi absentmindedly fiddling with Atsumu’s fingers. They talk about their first times, laugh about how bad they were at it and how they didn’t even really know how to kiss. They talk about when they first met and what they thought of each other (“You’re lyin’, I thought the same thing!”). They talk about their families. Atsumu tells Kiyoomi how he finds himself turning to talk to Osamu before remembering he’s not by his side anymore. How in some ways he couldn’t wait to get away from him and be his own person, but even though he loves the spotlight sometimes he feels like he’s missing part of his heart now. Kiyoomi tells him how he doesn’t miss his family, but sometimes he wishes he did. He wishes that he was calling out of more than obligation on holidays, that he held less resentment towards them, but more than that, he just wishes they gave him something to miss.

They fall asleep cuddling, Atsumu hugging Kiyoomi from behind. Kiyoomi feels safe in his arms and he falls asleep faster and easier than he has in years. 

Maybe a month later, they’re hanging out in Omi’s apartment. Atsumu has his head in Omi’s lap and he’s scrolling on his phone while Omi reads a book and strokes his hair between page-turns. 

Atsumu yawns, it’s been a slow afternoon and he feels absolutely content. Omi closes his book over a finger and looks down at him.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” he asks.

“Mm, that sounds nice,” Atsumu smiles at him sleepily. He sits up a bit so Omi can scoot out from under him and then lays back down and closes his eyes to listen to the sounds of him making tea. 

He can hear Omi fill the electric kettle and a click as he turns it on. There’s a small clinking as Omi digs in the cupboard for mugs. Some steps and then shuffling as he pulls out the tea bags. A little strained sound and some clicking. Atsumu can see Omi stretching his arms above his head in his mind’s eye. The water is boiling now, there’s the sound of bubbles and Atsumu feels like he can maybe even hear the steam coming out the top. Another click as the kettle turns off and the bubbles get quieter. The sound of hot water pouring into mugs. More steps.

Atsumu opens his eyes and pushes himself up to sit properly. Omi has a mug in each hand, the tea smells orangey and spicy. Atsumu doesn’t know what it’s called, but it’s his favourite. Omi made some the first time they hung out together at his apartment as friends. Atsumu had fallen asleep during a movie and woken up to gentle nudging and a cup of tea. He looks at Omi now and is overwhelmed by the feeling in his chest. 

“I love you,” Atsumu says. 

It’s only been a month, and that’s too soon to say it, and Atsumu doesn’t care. He loves Sakusa Kiyoomi and he wants to say it.

Omi looks down at the mug he’s holding for Atsumu and smiles softly. He passes it over carefully, leaving room on the handle for Atsumu to take hold. He looks up once Atsumu has taken the mug.

“I love you too,” he says. 

He sits down next to Atsumu gently, making sure not to jostle their cups. He leans in and kisses Atsumu, and it’s soft and deep and full of love, and Atsumu doesn’t even feel the need to say _Really?_ like he thought he would. He already has Omi’s answer.

It’s a year later, almost to the day. Atsumu’s complaining of a backache from carrying boxes and Omi’s collapsed on the couch next to him. Osamu had come down for the day to help them move into their new apartment, helping to carry furniture upstairs alongside Hinata and Bokuto, but now it's just the two of them. The sun had set while unpacking the more essential boxes and all they’d bothered to do about it is plug in a single lamp which is reflecting off their curtainless living room window. 

“Atsumu,” Omi interrupts his whining.

“Mm?”

Omi turns his head to look at him, “We need to christen our new place.”

Atsumu looks back at him with a tired smirk, “Well I’d love to Omi, but I don’t know if my back can take it right now. Maybe in the mornin’?”

Omi rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the couch, “Not what I meant.” 

He extends a hand to Atsumu, “Will you dance with me?”

Atsumu looks up, a little surprised at the sudden romantic gesture. Omi’s eyes are dark and soft and the little upturn of his mouth makes Atsumu want nothing more than to hold him close and sway with him. 

“Course I will,” Atsumu says with a smile, real and wide. 

He takes Kiyoomi’s outstretched hand and allows himself to be pulled off the couch into his arms. 

As they sway gently from side to side, surrounded by boxes with their arms around each other, Atsumu listens to Kiyoomi hum softly in his ear and thinks, _God, I really love him_.

Funnily enough, Kiyoomi thinks almost the exact same thing. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've published (so pls be gentle), I hope y'all enjoyed it!  
> Come shout at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/theylikeboth) :)


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